


A Little Tenderness and Truth

by Chash



Series: Falling Back on Forever [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln is going to propose to Octavia, which should not be a crisis for Bellamy, but Bellamy doesn't always react appropriately to things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Tenderness and Truth

When Bellamy Blake is twenty-four, his sister gets engaged, and it's kind of a crisis.

Obviously, he's happy for her. Lincoln is a great guy, and Bellamy really likes him. They've been dating for five years, they love each other, so of course they're going to get married.

But still. It's kind of a crisis for _him_.

The crisis starts before the actual engagement, when Lincoln takes him out to lunch one Saturday and says, "I'm not asking your permission or anything, but I wanted to let you know I'm going to propose to your sister."

Bellamy chokes a little on his sandwich. He and Lincoln have trouble being close, because Lincoln is eleven years older than he is, which is a lot of years, but it still feels like they _should_ be peers, because they're in the same social group, and they both love his sister. But they are, of course, in very different places in their lives. 

For example, Lincoln is _proposing_.

"That's awesome, man," he says, genuine, once he's stopped choking. "Congratulations. Have you guys talked about it, or are you surprising her?"

"We've talked about it, yes. There wasn't a specific date involved, so I don't think she'll know exactly when it's coming, but I don't think a proposal should ever be a total surprise. She knows I want to marry her, and--we've been talking about children, recently."

He chokes again. "Children?"

"She said she wanted to have her first child at around thirty, and she wanted to be married before we started trying for children, so--"

"Jesus," he says. "I can't believe she wants to have _kids_. I mean, I knew she wanted kids, but--" He gives Lincoln a wry smile. "You guys are old."

"Thanks," Lincoln says, dry. "That's exactly why I'm asking your sister to marry me. I'm old. That's it."

And it's sarcasm, but it kind of hits him hard, because--okay, yeah, Lincoln is thirty-five, so of course he's thinking about getting married. Octavia is only twenty-eight, but Bellamy knows there's a lot more pressure on women to get married and reproduce than men, that people are increasingly assholes about _why aren't you married yet_ as they get older. O's gotten drunk about it and ranted at him before, and it's not that bad for her yet, he knows, but--

But Clarke is twenty-eight too.

"Thanks for telling me," he tells Lincoln. "I hope she says yes."

And then he proceeds to freak out.

*

"You think Clarke wants to get married?" he asks Miller, two days later. They don't hang out as much as they used to, now that they're both living with their significant others, but they still make sure to spend time together one-on-one every two weeks or so. Miller pretends he thinks it's unnecessary and sappy, and Bellamy lets him get away with it. He knows the truth.

"How would I know?" Miller asks. "Why are you asking me what your girlfriend wants?"

"Rehearsing, basically," he says. "I need to talk to her about it."

"Why?"

"She's twenty-eight. That's old enough to want to be married, right?"

"Pretty sure there isn't a specific age. You want to get married when you want to get married. Did she say something?"

"No." He taps his finger on the rim of his glass. "Lincoln's going to propose. O wants kids, and she wants them kind of soon, so--Clarke might too."

"Dude. You know babies aren't contagious, right?"

"I know."

"I thought you wanted to marry Clarke."

"Yeah, I do," he says. It's a little weird, honestly. Clarke's the only person he's ever thought about marrying in his entire life. She's not the only person he's ever dated, but none of his relationships in high school or college ever got serious enough that he was seriously considering the long term. It's why at least one of his girlfriends broke up with him, even.

But he's wanted to marry Clarke since before he really knew what marriage meant. She was his first love, so of course he had fantasies about being married to her and having a couple kids and a dog. You were supposed to fantasize about that with _someone_ ; he did it with Clarke.

So once they started dating, he never thought it wasn't serious. He never thought this wasn't _it_. And two years later, he still thinks she's it. He wants to marry her.

But he's never actually figured out when or how it's going to happen. There are some steps between dating the woman you love and marrying her, and he just glossed over those in his mind. He is going to marry Clarke Griffin, someday.

He just hadn't realized it might be soon. 

He rubs his face. "I've got my mom's ring," he admits. "O told me to take it back in college, when we were moving out of our old place."

"Don't propose just because your sister got engaged," Miller says.

"I'm not. Fuck. I never thought about this, okay? I just--she was gonna be my wife eventually. I've thought that since I was like eight."

Miller snorts. "At least you're consistent." They drink in silence for a few minutes, and then he says, "You should talk to her, yeah. Maybe she wants to get married soon, maybe she doesn't. But this is a good time to ask. Other people getting married. You have an excuse."

"Thanks. I thought so too."

Another pause, and then, "You know she loves you, right? Don't tell me you're worried about that."

He has to smile. "No, yeah. I definitely know that."

*

Octavia calls on Sunday afternoon. Bellamy is working on grading, and Clarke is playing video games, propped up against his shoulder with his 3DS. They've been living together for a year, and he's sure he could do this for the rest of his life. Waking up with Clarke curled around him is his favorite thing, and having no roommates to disturb is great too. And he still just gets stupidly giddy sometimes, thinking that she loves him and wants him to be around all the time. It's not even because she's Clarke Griffin, the girl he had a crush on when he was a kid. It's mostly because she's Clarke, his absolute favorite person.

He's really fucking lucky that he's her favorite too.

"Hey, O," he says, once he locates his phone under his pile of papers.

"Hey." There's a long pause, and right before he prompts her for more information about the call, she blurts out, "Lincoln proposed."

"Congratulations," he says, a little warily. "Right? We're happy about this?"

She laughs. "No, of course we're happy. I just--I can't quite believe it."

He escapes from his papers and goes to the kitchen for a drink. "Really? Because everyone else saw this coming."

"Not like _that_. I knew--we talked about it. I've known for a while but--" She lets out a breath. "I didn't really think I'd get someone like him."

Bellamy swallows hard, because he _does_ know, as much as he can. He didn't realize how hard it was for her, the first few years of raising him. How much it fucked over her entire life. Lincoln's her first serious boyfriend, and it took a year of careful friendship before she was ready for more with him. Not even because of the age thing, just--his sister isn't used to getting things for herself.

"You deserve it," he says. "And I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks."

"Can I tell Clarke, or do you want to? If you want to, do it now, she heard like half that conversation. She'll figure it out fast."

"Give her the phone," says O, and he tries to focus on his grading again while the two of them talk.

Bellamy became a history teacher out of a general lack of any other plans for his life, but it turns out it's a really great fit for him. He was always a good student, and he's not bad with teenagers. Aside from having to do grading and the general anxiety that his kids will eventually realize he doesn't actually know what he's doing either, he loves it.

But it's hard to focus on his work when Clarke is around at the best of times, and after this conversation, he's going to ask her how she feels about marriage in general and to him specifically, so it's even worse. After about three minutes he just cleans it up and flops back on the couch with his head in Clarke's lap, letting her pet him.

"Okay, I gotta go, your brother is being weird," she tells Octavia. "But we're both really happy for you guys."

He hears Octavia shout, "Don't be weird, Bell!" and he calls back, "Love you too!" and then Clarke puts the phone away and leans down to kiss him. He tangles his hand in her hair and kisses back, because, okay, yes, this is an important conversation, but they can definitely make out first.

Clarke laughs into his mouth. "That was supposed to be quick," she teases.

"Uh huh," he agrees, sitting up so the next kiss won't hurt her neck as much.

"Is your sister getting engaged a turn on for you?" she asks. "Because I know you guys are close, but that would be creepy."

"It turns out I just really like making out."

"I had no idea." She curls against his side, nosing his neck. "Seriously, what's up? You've been acting weird all week."

"Shit, really? I thought you hadn't noticed."

"Sorry, you're basically the least subtle person I've ever met. Kind of an open book, honestly."

"Lincoln told me he was proposing last week," he admits.

"Don't tell me you're upset. You love Lincoln. Octavia loves Lincoln. You sounded really happy for them." Her hand slides under his t-shirt, nails gentle against his hip, and he lets his head drop onto her shoulder, feeling stupid all at once. This is _Clarke_. He can talk to Clarke.

"Not upset. Just--it's fucking weird that people I know are getting _married_."

She snorts. "Yeah, that just gets worse. It just happens more and more and gets weirder and weirder."

"Yeah?" he asks, and he thinks it sounds normal, but Clarke always has his number.

"Oh. This isn't about Octavia getting engaged, is it."

"It kind of is."

"You don't want to get married," she says, and he can't read her voice at all, but his arms tighten around her, automatic.

"Jesus Christ, no, I want to get married. Of course I want to get married. I--yeah. I really want to marry you." He nuzzles her hair. "I'm a dumbass, but I'm not that stupid. I knew I wanted to marry you before I even knew I wanted to have sex with you."

"That's because you decided you wanted to marry me before you hit puberty," she teases. "I wasn't going to hold you to that."

"I know. But--I do. I really do. I, uh. I figured we would, someday."

"Me too."

He nods, although it's not really a surprise. It's still nice. "I didn't think it was gonna be, uh, soon. But Lincoln freaked me out."

"Why?" she asks, but she sounds curious, not offended or judgmental. "They've been together for a lot longer than we have. It's not really surprising that they'd be getting engaged before us."

He lets out a breath. "O wants kids."

"Okay." When he doesn't continue, she scratches her fingers against his side again. It's weird, that he finds that supportive, but it's actually his favorite thing. "I don't get it. Do you want kids? Not want kids? I always figured you did. You love babies."

"I do, yeah. But not, uh--" He wets his lips, goes on before she can respond. "O wants kids soon, and you're, uh--maybe you do too."

He honestly barely remembers the difference in their ages, these days. Four years isn't really a lot, not anymore. But this is one way it could be; Clarke's six years out of college, and he's only two. She's finished grad school, and he's still kind of thinking about going someday. They're basically financially stable, but they don't have joint accounts or anything. They split rent and utilities down the middle, alternate weeks paying for groceries. They could probably afford a baby. If Clarke wanted one. 

And it's not like he _doesn't_ want one. Like Clarke said, he loves babies. And he definitely wants babies with _her_ , wants it so much it makes him ache, when he thinks about it. Sometimes he can't believe how much he loves her.

But again, it's always been _someday_. Not _now_.

"I don't know," Clarke says, thoughtful. "My coworkers have been asking."

"Really?"

"Not a lot. But one of the educators just got married and a couple other people are having or just had kids, so there's a lot of _Ooh, who's next_ going around." She makes a face. "Just for the women, of course. But I've gotten some, _oh, Clarke, your boyfriend is so sweet, when are you two tying the knot?_ "

"I'm sweet?"

"They said it, not me."

"So, uh, what do you tell them?"

"It's none of their business, so I usually tell them we're planning to live in sin forever."

He snorts. "Really?"

"Only sometimes." Her arms tighten around him, and she presses her lips against his neck. "It doesn't bother me, Bellamy. I love you. I'm going to marry you. Assuming there aren't medical complications, I'm going to have your babies. And if there are medical complications, I assume we'll figure something else out. I don't tell you about people asking me if I'm thinking about marriage or kids because I'm _not_."

"But you get asked a lot."

"Not a lot. Coworkers recently, yeah. My mother."

"Shit, what does your mom say?"

"Asshole stuff, the usual." She cuddles closer. "She's accepted that I'm serious about you, so I'm considering it a win."

"Awesome." He sighs. "So, uh--when should I be thinking about proposing? Do you have a timeline where if I haven't done it, I fucked up?"

"Yeah, there's a secret day I really want you to propose, but you can't know what it is, because every part of a healthy relationship is a creepy test." She bites his shoulder. "I promise you don't have to stress out about this. I don't have a timeline. When you ask me to marry you, I'm going to say yes. And if you're taking too long, I'll just ask you myself."

It's a comforting statement that probably deserves a thoughtful response, but it's also the best thing he's ever heard in his life, so he pushes her onto her back on the couch and kisses her, long and deep, and he's got her half naked with his hand between her legs before he remembers to say, "Um, good. Yeah. That's--"

She whines and pushes against his fingers. "I got that. Come on, Bellamy."

He lets out a shaky laugh. "Fuck, I love you," he says, speeding up his pace.

"Yeah," she says. "Same here."

*

On the one hand, the conversation with Clarke is a huge relief, because they're on the same page. They love each other, they want to get married someday, and they both want kids. 

On the other hand, he still doesn't have any idea when or how to propose to her. He thinks he'd probably like being engaged. There's something very satisfying on a visceral level about the idea of Clarke wearing his ring, satisfying enough he feels a little guilty. It's not like he needs the entire world to know about him and Clarke. But he kind of wants it anyway, honestly.

And it's not like they have to get married right away, if he proposes. It just means they're going to someday. Which they've established. So he can do it whenever.

In most ways, nothing has actually changed. The conversation made him feel better, because he's now sure he's not fucking up by not proposing when he should. Which was, in retrospect, stupid, because this is _Clarke_. If Clarke wanted him to propose, she'd just tell him.

"Didn't you have elaborate fantasies about how to do this?" Octavia asks him. Lincoln and Clarke are doing artist stuff while he and his sister sit on her couch, drink beer, and get increasingly bad at Mario Kart the drunker they get. It's not exactly a double date, but it's basically a double date. His life is great.

"Not really. All my fantasies were about being married already. And even if I did, I don't think any of them apply. Weirdly, my actual, adult relationship has almost nothing in common with my preteen fantasies."

"Because you hadn't hit puberty yet, so you didn't know how much sex you'd be having."

"Also I was really into _The Mummy_ , so I thought we'd be globe-trotting adventurers."

Octavia considers this. "Which one of you was Brendan Fraser?"

"No comment."

"Oh my god, you totally wanted to be the hot librarian that got swept off her feet by the daring adventurer."

"Shut up."

"You guys should definitely do that. Leave your jobs and just travel the world trying to discover ancient curses. That sounds awesome. You have my blessing."

"That's all that was stopping me." He glances at her. "How did Lincoln propose?"

"It was very romantic. You don't get to steal it. And it wouldn't work anyway, it was personal."

"I'm not going to steal it. I'm just curious."

She toys with the ring on her finger, a smile playing on her lips, and Bellamy feels his heart lurch. He's so happy for her he can't deal with it sometimes. His sister deserves all the best things, and she's getting them. It's awesome.

"Remember how we met because we were auditing the same class? And he used to bring me coffee, and then muffins, because I'm so grumpy in the mornings?"

Bellamy has to smile. "Yeah, I remember." He was a sophomore in college at the time, and O had finally been figuring out how to be her own person, to not worry about him all the time. She'd bring Lincoln up tentatively, mistrustful, just an occasional mention of the guy who brought her breakfast and smiled at her, and Bellamy bit back on his own smiles. Lincoln's always been good for her.

"Yeah, so, he told me he was taking me out for brunch on Sunday, I made fun of him because it's brunch--"

"Obviously."

"And then at the end of the meal he gave me a coffee from the place he always used to go and this ring box he carved himself to look like a muffin. Which was, you know, incredibly sappy, but--Lincoln."

"It's sweet," he tells her, and wraps his arm around her for a hug. "I'm still happy for you."

"I couldn't tell, since all you've done since I got engaged is freak out about proposing to your girlfriend."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm telling you."

"You're still a dumbass. You don't have to worry about this."

"I'm not worried," he says, and it's like seventy-five-percent true. "I just want to do it right."

"Well, the good news is, I don't think you can possibly fuck it up. You successfully got Clarke Griffin to love you. I never thought it would happen, but now that it did, I think you're basically set. You're an inspiration to horny teenage boys everywhere."

"Thanks. I'm gonna give a TED Talk."

She rests her head on his shoulder. "It'll happen when it happens, Bell. You don't have to rush it. You guys aren't going anywhere."

He leans back against her, warm and content. She's right. He knows she's right. "Thanks, O."

"Well, what are big sisters for?"

*

He doesn't get what Clarke meant about her coworkers until three weeks later, when he chaperones a trip to the history museum.

Bellamy is absolutely and completely _not_ dating Clarke for museum access, but he is more than willing to admit that her job is awesome and he takes advantage of her free admission all the time. And taking his kids to the museum is just _smart_. He's a history teacher; even if his girlfriend didn't work there, he would want to take them on field trips. It's an awesome museum.

In general, he tries not to discuss his personal life with his students that much, but they all know he has a serious girlfriend because he has a picture of himself and Clarke on his desk and sometimes references her in his anecdotes, so the first time they went on a field trip and she showed up, his entire class basically started catcalling and asking if she was _Mr. Blake's giiiiiiirlfriend_.

They are all savages; Clarke thinks it's cute. 

Which is why she comes down for every field trip and follows them around, offering interesting curatorial trivia and basically making all his students like her more than they like him.

It is very difficult to pretend he doesn't love it, but he tries. He's been cultivating this pre-maturely grumpy old man vibe at school, and it's worth attempting to maintain it, even when his girlfriend is around turning him into a pile of lovesick goo.

The interrogation starts basically as soon as he gets there. He knows almost everyone who works at the museum, so the other teachers send him to check in. Allie, the group coordinator, is one of Clarke's pregnant coworkers, so he congratulates her when he sees her, makes small talk about gift registries and gender preferences. He's not great at chatting, but babies are a pretty safe starting topic, and Allie is very excited to talk about hers.

"Are you and Clarke next?" she asks, winking at him, and he doesn't splutter or choke. He's pretty good at only doing that among friends.

"Sorry?" he asks instead, maintaining a polite smile.

"Are the two of you thinking about children?"

"As little as possible," he says. "I figure we should start small. Like a goldfish. Maybe a turtle, if we're feeling ambitious."

Allie takes it for the joke it is, but her smile is patronizing. "Well, if I were you, I'd wait until everyone else is off maternity leave. Or maybe not. Less of a workload for Clarke if she leaves with the rest of the ground."

"That was our main concern, yeah." He slides her the paperwork. "Are we all set?"

"You're all set. Have a good trip." There's a pause, and then she says, "I hope I didn't overstep, I was just curious. You're so good with kids, I assumed you were planning to--"

"Someday, definitely," he says, with a genuine smile. "But not yet."

It doesn't get better. It wasn't like he hadn't believed Clarke that her coworkers had babies on the brain, but he hadn't really expected that her deflecting the questions would mean they came to him, like he'll have more insight to offer. And they're coming to him on a _field trip_ , which means he has to navigate vague answers to personal questions while trying to make sure none of his students overhear and start rumors about how Mr. Blake is going to have a baby or something.

"Jesus Christ," he remarks, dropping his forehead onto Clarke's shoulder when the students are doing free exploration and probably head paying much attention. She gives his hair a brief scratch and then he straightens. "I wasn't expecting your coworkers to ask _me_ about us having kids."

"I think there's a bet going or something."

"Creepy."

"Right? What did you tell them?"

"We're getting a goldfish first, to see if we're responsible enough for a kid. So you can give it a week or two and then tell them the goldfish died and we're putting off reproducing for another year or so. Until we're more prepared."

She glances around and then leans up to peck him on the cheek. "I love you."

"Yeah. I love you too."

*

Bellamy's twenty-fifth birthday is in January, and it feels like he should do something special for it.

"Twenty-five," he tells Clarke. "That's a big one, right?"

"You can finally rent a car, yeah."

"That's how we should celebrate. I'll rent a car. We can drive somewhere."

"That would be better if we didn't actually own a car. Paying for a car rental on top of paying for a trip just feels like a waste of money."

"It's like you have no sense of how important it is that I can rent a car."

"It's just like that."

"A trip might be fun, though," he muses. "Not on my actual birthday, but you get Martin Luther King Day off, right?"

"Yeah. And I could leave early on Friday, if you want. Like, when school gets out. So we can be wherever we're going for all of Saturday and Sunday and drive back on Monday."

It's not the kind of thing Bellamy tends to do; when he has time off, he usually spends it at home, reading and playing video games until he gets bored of that and starts doing home repairs. They went to see Clarke's mother for Christmas, but that was less of a vacation and more of a terrifying, non-stop test, which Clarke apologized for with epic amounts of sex, so at least it could have been worse.

After that, a weekend trip sounds really nice.

Clarke takes point on planning, once Bellamy has given her some preferences--no more than four hours to drive, no more than $200 a night for accommodations (originally $150, but Clarke's a good negotiator), some access to the possibility of skiing, even though Bellamy isn't really sold on skiing yet, as a concept. But he might be someone who likes to ski. It seems possible.

It also seems possible that he's going to want to propose to her.

Part of it is that he always feels like it's weird to propose to someone as a present to _them_. Technically, he's giving Clarke a ring, which could count as a gift, but, really, if Clarke agrees to marry him it's the best birthday present of all time for him. And it's probably going to be romantic. Plus, they'll definitely be alone, and, honestly, he feels ready. He thought about doing it at Christmas or New Year's, but it didn't feel right. But he'd like to start off twenty-five engaged to the woman he loves.

So he brings the ring.

He was expecting some quaint B&B or something, but Clarke actually found a place that rents little cabins, which is much cooler. They have a _fireplace_. Bellamy could totally go out and shoot an animal, assuming he had a gun, some knowledge of how to use it, and any desire to shoot an animal. It all feels very rustic and wild, but there's still wifi, so it's pretty much perfect.

"Yeah?" Clarke asks, clearly proud of herself. "I thought you'd like it."

"Best girlfriend ever," he promises her, with a long kiss, and then, "Really. Thanks."

"It's your birthday. You really don't have to thank me for getting you nice stuff on your birthday."

"Uh, yeah, I do, because my sister raised me right. When people do nice things, you thank them. It's called manners, Clarke."

She laughs and winds her arms around his neck. "Okay, fine. You're welcome. I'm glad I didn't fuck it up." She leans up for a kiss. "Do you want a fire, or just straight to breaking in the bed?"

"If we were just gonna have sex, we could have stayed home," he teases, sliding his hands under the hem of her shirt.

"But we've already had sex on our bed."

He hums, sliding his mouth down to her neck. "I guess that's true. But I still want a fire."

"Well," she says, as if it's a great burden, "it _is_ your birthday."

*

He doesn't manage to propose that night, between making the fire, sticking random stuff in the fire to see how it burns, having sex, going to the store to buy marshmallows so they can make s'mores in the fire, and more sex, but it's hard to be upset. It's one of the best nights of his life; of course he's not upset.

The next morning, Clarke drags him to a place she found where they can race go-karts, so that Bellamy gets to celebrate his coming ability to rent a car in some small way, and they discover that Clarke is the worst go-kart driver of all time, much to his delight. There's an arcade attached to the track, and they buy greasy pizza and she attempts to do well enough at skee-ball to get him a prize. It feels like he thinks it would have if they'd been the same age and dating in high school, fun and easy, almost juvenile, but in a nice way.

"This was basically all I wanted for my birthday for like four years," he tells her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

She leans back into it automatically, and it still feels like a miracle sometimes, that he gets _anyone_ who loves him this much, who's this amazing, let alone that it's the first girl he ever wanted like this, even before he understood what wanting someone like this meant. "I didn't even win you anything. Have higher standards." 

"In my fantasies I won you things and you realized I was totally more than just Octavia's dorky brother."

"You're _still_ Octavia's dorky brother, Bell."

"Yeah, but now you're into that." He presses his lips against her jaw, quick, and lets her go so that they don't scandalize any kids with their public displays of affection. "I'm just saying, this is really fucking nice, okay? You're awesome at trip planning."

"Thanks. Want to check out the video games or just head back to the cabin?"

He pretends to think it over. "What if they have good video games? We'd really regret it if we missed out."

She grins and twines their fingers together, tugging him after her, and he follows, just like he always does.

*

Octavia calls when Clarke is in the shower that night, which is a blessing, because she opens with, "So, have you proposed yet?"

"Who says I'm proposing?" he demands, with so much less cool than he'd like.

He can practically hear his sister's eye roll. "Do you know how hard Clarke worked on this? She had _spreadsheets_ , Bell, comparing and contrasting all these different locations."

"Yeah?" he asks, warmth blooming in his chest.

"Clarke loves spreadsheets. But yeah, it was cute, she really wanted to make sure you had a good time. So I'm just waiting for you to become overcome by sappiness and blurt out that you want her to marry you and have your babies."

"She already knows that. I really haven't been subtle about it."

"But you totally brought the ring."

"I totally brought the ring," he admits.

"Where is she?"

"Shower."

"You're letting her shower alone on a romantic holiday getaway, seriously? You're a failure."

"The shower is slippery. Nothing kills romance like someone cracking their head open trying to hook up in the bathroom." He hears the water switch off. "I think she's done, though, so I'm gonna hook up with her on the bed. Like an adult."

"Gross."

"You started it."

"Just wait until you're both wearing clothes to pop the question. Otherwise she's gonna think it's sex-based."

"Yeah, I'm definitely worried she doesn't know I love her."

"Happy birthday in like five days."

"Thanks."

"I hope she says yes."

"She will."

He hangs up as Clarke comes out, wearing nothing but a towel, with another one wrapped around her hair. 

He's definitely going to ask her to marry him. There's no way he's not.

"Octavia says hi," he remarks. "She also says you had spreadsheets ranking different vacation options." He watches a flush creep up her neck, and he can't resist getting off the bed, going over to kiss her shoulder. "I didn't mean it as a bad thing."

"Spreadsheets are _useful_ ," she grumbles, angling her head so he can move his mouth up the smooth skin of her neck. "I had a lot of information to organize."

"You're my favorite person."

"I know."

"Whatever I do for your birthday isn't going to be nearly this cool."

"That was my plan. I'm just always going to be better than you in every way."

He turns her around, presses her up against the wall so he can kiss her, long and deep. She winds his arms around his neck and the press of his body against hers is enough to unwrap the towel in basically no time.

"I'm cool with that," he murmurs, and swallows down the urge to propose as he picks her up and carries her to the bed. Octavia's right, he doesn't want to do it like this. And right now, touching her is absolutely more important than popping the question. "I've got other skills," he adds, and slides down between her legs to demonstrate.

*

"So, is skiing something you actually want to do, or did you just want the option to be there?" Clarke asks the next morning. They haven't gotten out of bed yet, and Bellamy's not convinced he ever wants to. "I found a place. They've got downhill and cross country. Cross country is pretty easy if you've never skied before."

"Or we could just stay here all day."

She curls around him like a cat, all warm and soft and happy. "Or we could do that. Your birthday trip, your call."

He nuzzles her hair. "Do we have any food?"

"Some graham crackers and stuff. Coffee. We could order something, I'm pretty sure. I'm not saying we can get through the day without leaving this bed, but not leaving this cabin seems like an achievable goal."

"You should marry me," he says, without entirely meaning to.

Her smile is soft and easy. "I will."

"Yeah, but--I've got a ring and everything."

She laughs and kisses him. "So, this is proposing."

"Apparently. I would have done it at the arcade, but I didn't have the ring."

"You don't have it now either," she teases.

"I've totally got it." He tries to roll away to grab it, but her arms tighten around him.

"You can get it when we decide we need coffee. I believe you." She burrows into him. "I said yes, right? I'll marry you."

He's not sure he's ever smiled so hard in his entire life. "Yeah," he tells her. "You said it."

*

They have s'mores for breakfast, and Clarke insists on waiting to get the ring until after, so she doesn't get chocolate and marshmallow goop on it. There's still a surreality to sliding it onto her finger when he does it, this sense that someone is going to appear out of nowhere and tell him he doesn't get this, that he's not allowed to have developed a crush on his sister's friend when he was fucking _eight_ and have been right about it. There's got to be a rule about this. He can't be this lucky.

But the ring is on her finger, and she immediately snaps a picture and posts it on Facebook, and if that's not official, nothing is.

"Your coworkers are going to be so smug."

"Not until I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, still no on that one. Twenty-five is way too young to be a father. I can barely rent a car."

"Which is obviously the logical pre-requisite to fatherhood," she teases, but then she bites her lip, like she's actually torn on something, and his heart lodges in his throat. 

He could probably be a father at twenty-six. And it would take about that long for the baby to actually be _born_ , probably. If she wanted to. If they started trying now. He doesn't exactly want to, but--he'd do it. If Clarke was ready. He could try.

But then she says, "Is now a good time to mention that I want a puppy for my birthday?"

He tackles her onto the bed, laughing with relief. "Fuck, you fucking scared me, I thought you wanted a kid."

She laughs too, tugs him in for a kiss. She tastes like chocolate and warmth, and she's going to marry him. "Nope. I'm not sure we're responsible enough for a kid. We should do a puppy first. I'm not really a goldfish person."

"So, you have so little faith in my ability to get you a good birthday present that you're just telling me what you want?"

"Hey, you told me exactly what you wanted too. I just figured out the details."

"What I'm hearing is I need to make a spreadsheet comparing the relative merits of a billion puppies."

She gives this due consideration. "That's exactly what you need to do, yeah. But honestly, if you meet a billion puppies, you're not allowed to do it without me. Looking for vacation spots alone is one thing, but if you're hanging out with puppies, I'm going to need to be there."

He laces their fingers together, thrills at the feel of the ring brushing his skin, _his_ ring. He's going to marry Clarke Griffin. He really, actually is.

"I promise I will never pick out a puppy without you."

"There's our first wedding vow," she says, softer than he expected. When he glances down, she's looking at the ring too, and he presses his lips against her hair. "Hey, Bell?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks," he says. "I got exactly what I wanted."


End file.
